


Day 7- Spoons

by Broken_Clover



Series: Autistic Creative Challenge 2019 [7]
Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Autism Spectrum, Autistic Creative Challenge, Fluff, M/M, Spoon Theory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: Zappa gets tired a lot easier than the average person, but Axl is happy to help out when that happens.





	Day 7- Spoons

“Axl, ‘m home.”

The man in question perked up at the familiar voice, sitting up on the couch and peeking over the back of it. “Hey! How was work?”

“Crap.” The single word was emphasized by the sound of a bag being roughly dropped and boots being tossed against a wall.

“Yikes. Sounds like it.” Equal parts puzzled and concerned, Axl continued to stay where he was and watch Zappa enter the living room from the front entrance. “Wanna sit down?”

He hardly needed the encouragement. Axl was barely able to scoot out of the way before a weight flopped over on the couch and sank into the cushions. Despite his tone, the man didn’t look angry, just positively drained.

“Feelin’ sick?”

“Tired.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Axl gave his partner a gentle pat on the head and reached for the blanket that he’d given as a gift for their anniversary. “You outta forks for the day?”

“Spoons.”

“Right, my bad. Sorry.”

“Paradigm wanted me to demonstrate the new remote scanner. Right in front of the kings.” Just speaking seemed to tire Zappa out further. “Didn’t bother mentioning that fun little tidbit until last-second.”

“Ouch.” Axl offered a sympathetic smile, tossing the blanket over his companion. “That oughta burn you out pretty bad.”

Zappa buried himself under the fabric, forming a burrito on the couch. “Mmhm. And someone broke the stove during lunch, which tripped the fire alarm.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it, then. I know the alarms are the worst for you.” The Brit offered a sympathetic smile. “No wonder you look ready to conk out for the night.”

“It’s hard enough pretending to be neurotypical, why can’t I just handle this stuff instead of making a big deal out of it?”

“Hey, hey, don’t be like that.” A hand reached down to start stroking again, rhythmically and soothingly across a blanket-covered shoulder. “You’re working really hard. I know it’s tough, but I’m proud of you.”

That seemed to at least be a bit of an assurance. Zappa curled up against his leg with a pleased little murmur. “Whose turn was it to get dinner?”

“Mine. Stopped at Danny Missiles on the way home. You like yours with extra onions and pepper, right?”

Axl caught a look sent in his direction. “Is that a joke?”

He couldn’t resist a snicker. “Yeah, it is. I know what you like, love. Nothin’ spicy.”

The little laugh he got in reply made his heart feel lighter. “Won’t believe it ‘till I see it.”

“Well, it’s on the kitchen counter. Was just checking the news when you got back.”

“Mmph. Gimme five minutes, then I can get up.” Axl felt the weight settle back against him.

“Yannow I can just get up and grab it, right? It’s take-away, nothing saying you can’t just eat it where you are.”

“…That works, too.”

“I gotcha.” He managed to wiggle out off of the couch and head over to the attached kitchen. “Think you’re gonna call in sick tomorrow?”

Zappa shrugged. “I dunno. Probably not.”

“Fair enough either way.” Axl returned with the bag, along with a stack of paper towels and a couple glasses of water. “You’re still chatting, but you’re definitely exhausted. Dunno how long the burnout lasts.”

As soon as he sat back down, the weight slumped against him again. “You’re easy to talk to. It doesn’t wear me down like other people do.”

“Aww, thanks, love. That’s probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“Is that…also a joke?”

“Not in the slightest.”


End file.
